


mirror my malady; transfer my tragedy

by hyenateeth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Body Horror, F/F, Forced Voyeurism, Hurt Minimal Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shapeshifting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1784191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyenateeth/pseuds/hyenateeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I could give that to you,” it said, in Enjolras’ voice but also not, because Enjolras’ voice never sounded like that. “You’ll never have her, but I could give her to you, if you give me what I want.”</p><p>“No!” Grantaire was shaking hard like a leaf, a tight feeling in her chest. “No, g-get away from me!”</p><p>“Oh come on Grantaire,” purred the thing with Enjolras’ face. “I’m just like her when I’m like this. I look like her, I sound like her...” It leaned in to whisper in her ear, breath hot. “I bet I moan like her. Want to find out?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	mirror my malady; transfer my tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. 
> 
> I don't know why I wrote this. This is very unnecessary and not even what I normally write at all. Hopefully this cures my writer's block for my other fics though?
> 
> Basically Enjolras and Grantaire in this fic are: a. women and b. monster hunters for hire (as are all the Amis.) and there really is minimal world-building in this.
> 
> Warnings are in the tags, hit me up if you think I should add a warning?
> 
> (I am quite sleep deprived and I am probably going to totally regret posting this when I am rested again.)
> 
> (Title from the song Wolf Like Me by TV on the Radio.)

Grantaire was stupid. She was so stupid, so unbelievably stupid. Rule one, it was rule one, never go in alone and without back up. It was rule one; she knew rule one. But this was supposed to have been a simple case, a simple werewolf case anyone could finish, that she could finish in her sleep. Grantaire had been a hunter for years, had the scars (one very visible one but half a dozen hidden ones as well) to prove it, and this just wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, not supposed to end with Grantaire chained to a wall in some kind of bunker, probably concussed, definitely bleeding. 

“A. Grantaire... what are you, 25?” A voice interrupter her thoughts, and instinctively she tried to hide from it, press herself against the wall and look invisible, shoeless feet scraping against the concrete floor, bound arms digging into her back. It, whatever it was, was standing in front of her, flipping through her wallet, looked human right now, looked male, but Grantaire knew better, she had seen, _she had seen-_

“Professional exterminator huh? Is that what you people call yourselves? Someone hired you then, someone hired you to take out the _pests_?” 

_Look brave,_ a rogue voice in Grantaire’s head told her. _Look brave, don’t back down._

“They hired me,” she coughed out, blood in her mouth garbling her speech some. “To find out what was mutilating their children.” 

The thing looked up from Grantaire’s wallet, locked eyes with her. _It looked so human, god-_

“One of those nosy farmers then? Well, they’ll get what’s coming to them.” Then it winked at Grantaire. “Not before you do though. So tell me a little about your business Grantaire.” It kneeled, so it cold look Grantaire in the eyes, and it made her feel sick but she couldn’t let that show. “How many of there are you? I know you’re not alone, so don’t even try and lie.” It grinned, a sickly grin. “What about that hot blonde you came here with, hmm?”

_No no no no-_

* * *

“Shit,” Grantaire had groused, just a few hours earlier, face pressed to car window. “I can’t believe I have to climb a mountain in the middle of the fucking night with the Golden Girl here when I could be. I don’t know. Watching B-movies on Netflix. Sleeping. Anything but this.”

“Shut the hell up Grantaire,” Enjolras snapped back, turning off the jeep with an angry turn of the keys, shoving them into her pocket. “We’re here.” 

Grantaire took a long moment to look at Enjolras before getting out of the car, disguising it by automatically checking the clip with one of her guns like she always did before getting out of the car, the Beretta she kept at her hip. (“Keep two guns on you at all times,” Bahorel had told her once and she had laughed and said “Only two?” Grantaire kept three, at least.) 

Enjolras looked so young still, hell, she was so young still. Only 23, and had only been hunting for a few years. Her eyes still looked bright. Her blonde hair was still long, tied tight into a high ponytail, curling as it brushed against her nape. She barely had any scars, and none on her face, which was clear and sculpted.

Enjolras still believed they could help people. Grantaire believed in a paycheck. 

“All the bodies have been found in this area, at the foot of the mountain.” Enjolras recited as they got out of the car. “Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence contacted us when their middle child, Eli, age 15, was found torn apart, with most of his organs missing. All signs point to werewolf. There have been-”

“5 bodies found and 10 more missing in the surrounding area. I know Enjolras. I do actually listen when Combeferre debriefs us you know.”

Enjolras glared at her, and Grantaire didn’t flinch away from the gaze, readjusting the rifle that was strapped to her shoulder. She knew Enjolras didn’t like her, had done her best to make her peace with that, even if sometimes when she fell asleep she still liked to imagine she was laying next to her, warm and soft and alive. Still, she didn’t like to open wounds by working with her, except when she did, sometimes. This was an open and shut werewolf case, and Grantaire was the best shot of their team, and Enjolras was the best tracker. 

It was just business. 

“Fine then,” snapped Enjolras. “Let’s start hiking.”

Grantaire groaned dramatically. 

“So our lupine has to be in human form sometimes right?” Grantaire mused as they hiked, the moon leaking through the thin branches of the trees. “He needs somewhere to stay when he isn’t munching on farmers. What, does he got a log cabin?”

“Maybe,” said Enjolras tersely. 

“That is if he isn’t part of the community. Maybe a farmhand. I feel like I would notice if my farmhand always went missing that much though. You got a path yet?”

“Not yet, if you would please- oh shit!” Enjolras yelped and Grantaire had to hold back laughter as Enjolras jerked, her hair suddenly getting caught on a low-hanging, spindly branch. She wasn’t able to hold back the smile though, at this weird, human moment from Enjolras. 

“Oh, you child,” she chided, going to untangle her blond hair, Enjolras hissing as a few strands were pulled out in the process, stuck to the branch. “This is why I keep mine short. Hold still, I’m going to do something.” 

“What are you-” started Enjolras, but Grantaire hushed her, pulling out her hair-tie, glad Enjolras’ back was to her so she couldn’t see the way she sighed as the blonde waves  
fell across narrow shoulders. She only took the small indulgence of running her fingers through it before setting to quick work.

“There,” she said as she finished the braid, tying it off. “Perfect.” 

“Thanks” mumbled Enjolras, not looking at her. Grantaire kept her eyes on the back of Enjolras head for a second, a warm feeling bubbling up inside of her, unbidden. Wind rustled the trees. Then she shrugged and pushed past Enjolras, readjusting the strap for her shoulder gun. “Whatever. Let’s get going. I swear to god, the money better be worth this.”

It was the wrong thing to say. She knew it right after she said it. Enjolras began to hurry after her. 

“This isn’t about the money Grantaire this is about-”

“Helping people, yeah yeah, I know. Whatever, I just want to get this over with.”

“This isn’t a joke Grantaire! Is money all you care about? People have _died-_ ” 

“I know people have died! And I feel as bad about that as anyone, but I can’t bring them back, and I can’t make their families feel better. All I know how to do is kill the things that did that to them, and I’d like to that before the sun rises. Okay?” 

“Don’t pretend that this is what this is about!”

“Yeah yeah, I don’t have the right attitude for you, we’ve had this argument before. We’re killers Enjolras, forgive me for not always seeing the good side of that.”

“We kill evil things-”

“Whatever-”

“Stop saying whatever! God, you’re so frustrating-”

“Yeah?” And maybe Grantaire was having a bad night, or maybe she was just feeling more self-destructive than normal, because she stopped short and spun around, so she was face to face with Enjolras. “Well you don’t have to work with me you know!”

Enjolras’ snorted. “Yeah right-”

“No! I’m serious! You clearly hate working with me, and I can track this werewolf myself and kill it myself! I did it all myself before I joined your little hunter’s maid service! _I don’t need you!_ ”

Enjolras looked taken aback, but did not miss a beat. “Fine! If you want to be a reckless idiot I won’t stand in your way!” Her glare was the iciest she had ever seen as she stepped back. “Call when you need a ride, since you’re oh-so capable. I’m sure you’d rather be alone with that hip flask of yours that you think I don’t know about!”

“Oh fuck off.” 

“It’s not like I want to work with a greedy alcoholic anyway!”

Grantaire hoped Enjolras didn’t see the way she flinched in the low moonlight. “And I don’t want to work with a self-righteous bitch! Take the jeep and tell the team they can pick me up when I’ve killed the werewolf! And tell them I want a majority of the cut since _money is all I care about!_ ”

“Fine! I’m leaving!”

“Good! I don’t need you!”

And then Enjolras’ back was to her as she stormed back down to the direction of the car, and that had been the last Grantaire had seen of before-

* * *

“She’s no one. A coworker. We barely know each other, we don’t even know each other’s real names.” 

The thing just kept smiling. “Aw, see, I know you’re lying. I was watching you two as you came up looking for, well, looking for me.” It reached out and stroked Grantaire’s cheek with it’s human hand, smearing her own blood across her skin, and Grantaire forced herself not to pull back. 

(It hadn’t looked human when it had ambushed her on the mountain, insect like limbs and horrible claws that tore at her before she could fire her gun, but she had seen, before, seen its bones twist and its skin slough off until it looked like Eli Lawrence, the boy that had been found on the foot of the mountain, and Grantaire had tried to scream, but it was lost in a gurgle of the blood filling her mouth, before everything went black, before she woke up, chained in a concrete room, shoes and guns and cellphone all gone, the thing standing before her.)

“I’m not lying,” she mumbled weakly. “She’s just-”

“Don’t keep lying Grantaire, it doesn’t become you. But, we need to we do need to build up some trust between us don’t we? So I’ll tell you one of my secrets Grantaire.” The thing stood again, and dug in the pocket of the dirty khakis it was wearing. Probably stolen from one of its victims, _god._

“You may have guessed by now I’m a shapeshifter. But I’m not you’re average skin walker or were-creature. _I_ never _was_ a human. And my powers are much greater than theirs. I can be anyone. All I need is a little DNA.” It smirked and pulled something out of its pocket, and it was dark in this room, just some flickering fluorescent lights, and Grantaire had to squint to see what it was holding and- 

“No,” she hissed. 

“Yes.” The thing’s eyes was boring into her, its smirk made her sick, the laugh in its voice horrified her “I told you I was watching you. And I saw your little friend’s hair get caught in the tree. I have to tell you, it’s not normally this easy for me!” Then it brought the small bunch of long, golden hairs up to its mouth, devouring it in an instant. 

Then it began to change. 

It’s skin bubbled, as if boiling and began to slough off its face, exposing its twisting bones, and as Eli Lawrence’s brown hair fell out Grantaire could no longer keep her stomach from turning at the sight. She curled to the side, retching painfully, wishing she couldn’t hear the slick noises of regrowing skin and the crunching of reshaping bones. 

“Oh Grantaire,” said Enjolras’ voice. “Don’t be like that.”

Grantaire didn’t want to look, but she made herself. There stood Enjolras, beautiful Enjolras, wearing dirty khakis and a stained shirt and the sickest smirk she had ever seen. Anger overtook her horror for a minute. 

“How dare you!” she snapped. “How dare you- that’s not, she- Enjolras-”

“Oh calm down,” snorted the thing, the thing wearing Enjolras’ face. “I have to admit, this is one of the better bodies I’ve been in.” It ran a hand through her hair, long and blonde. “Pretty, isn’t she? I bet you’re just _dying_ to fuck her.” 

Grantaire coughed. “What?”

“That’s it, isn’t it? You want to fuck her, right? I don’t blame you. Tits are a little small, but other than that she is a fine human specimen. But she hates you right? I saw that too, when I was watching you.” It was advancing on Grantaire again, stepping over the mass of wet, amorphous skin it had shed, and this time Grantaire did not hide the way she tried to scramble away from it, trying to push herself flat against the wall, suddenly more terrified now that it was wearing Enjolras’ face. 

“No,” she whimpered as in kneeled in front of her, putting its hands on the wall next to her. “No, no...”

“I could give that to you,” it said, in Enjolras’ voice but also not, because Enjolras’ voice never sounded like that. “You’ll never have her, but I could give her to you, if you give me what I want.”

“No!” Grantaire was shaking hard like a leaf, a tight feeling in her chest. “No, g-get away from me!”

“Oh come on Grantaire,” purred the thing with Enjolras’ face. “I’m just like her when I’m like this. I look like her, I sound like her...” It leaned in to whisper in her ear, breath hot. “I bet I moan like her. Want to find out?” 

“Get away!” cried Grantaire, scared, desperate, thrashing her body the best she could with her arms bound. Somewhat desperately she tried to roll, to escape, even though there was little room for her to move and the chains made her arms twist painfully. “Don’t touch me!” 

The thing laughed. “I can work with that.” And it pushed its self back, sitting back and spreading its legs. “Ever wondered what this Enjolras of yours looks like when she gets herself off?” 

No. No it couldn’t...

But it was reaching into its pants and touching and no, no. This couldn’t happen. Grantaire felt sick. How dare this thing do this, how could it use Enjolras’ appearance, defile it-

The thing moaned, and arched its back luxuriously. “Oh Grantaire,” it moaned in Enjolras voice, pushing its shirt up to show off her small pale breasts, and no. Grantaire didn’t want this, not like this. 

But she couldn’t look away.

“Please,” she begged the thing, her voice quivering. “Please stop... Please....” 

“Oh _Grantaire,_ ” it moaned again, loud, pointed. “Oh yes, Grantaire, it feels so good...”

“Please stop!” Her voice was getting desperate, and no, she didn’t want to see this. It was wrong, and there was a heat in her stomach building as she watched the display, beyond her control, and it made her sick. “Please!”

“I want you so much,” it moaned, thumbing her, no, its own nipple, rosy and hard and perfect, its hand still moving in its jeans. “Oh Grantaire, I want you Grantaire. I want your fingers in me Grantaire, I want your mouth, I want-”

“Please!” screamed Grantaire, desperate for it to stop. Even if she closed her eyes she couldn’t escape the noise, and she wished her arms weren’t behind her back so she could cover her ears, she wished she couldn’t feel her own wetness between her legs when she moved. “Please!” 

The monster came with a loud, wanton moan, and Grantaire burst into tears. 

She sobbed, curled into herself, horrified at what had happened, horrified that she was aroused by it, horrified by what this thing had done with Enjolras’ body, and didn’t matter that it wasn’t technically her actual body at all. 

“Oh Grantaire,” she heard it coo, and then thin, pale hands were on her face, lifting it to meet her eyes. It’s fingers were wet where it touched the scar on her cheek, and it aroused and disgusted Grantaire all in one painful stab. “Don’t cry.” And then it leaned in to kiss Grantaire, undeterred by the way Grantaire sobbed and tried to pull back. It shushed her and held her head steady and forced its tongue into her mouth, holding her face harder than was comfortable as she sobbed into it’s mouth, and it took her a moment to realize, but this thing was licking the blood out of her mouth. 

Grantaire wanted to die. It had barely touched her and Grantaire wanted to die.

“Now then,” cooed the thing, pulling away, ignoring the way she coughed, pressing soft, mocking kisses to her tearstained face. “Now that we’ve had a little fun, I just have one question for you. Will she come back for you?”

“Someone will,” she choked out, too sick with herself to resist. Enjolras probably wouldn’t, but when she got back to the hideout someone, probably Combeferre, would yell at her for leaving her alone, and then someone would drive back to get her. 

“That’s what I was counting on,” it purred. Then it released her, shoving her back hard against the wall, and stood. 

“Well, it’s been fun in this body, but I think it’s time to change out.”

Watching this thing change its shape so it looked like her was what broke Grantaire. She turned away the best she could, emptying the contents of her stomach on to the floor.

* * *

Halfway back to the hideout, Enjolras swore and violently pulled the car to the side of the road, thankful for the empty road. 

“I’m so stupid,” she hissed, slamming her head onto the steering wheel. She shouldn’t have said those things to Grantaire. She definitely shouldn’t have left her alone, god, _how could she do that._ She let her temper get the best of her sometimes, but _this._ This was unacceptable.

Grantaire was cynical, but Enjolras didn’t fault her for that, not really. If anything it scared her. It was so hard, this job of theirs. It was so hard to face evil like they faced. She knew Grantaire had been through more than her, she knew Grantaire wasn’t greedy, knew that she focused on the money to keep her mind off the horror of their jobs.

She knew cynicism was Grantaire’s defense mechanism, she knew that in truth Grantaire lived in the same state of constant fear that they all did, and knowing that about Grantaire, who seemed so strong, scared her. 

She didn’t want to lose Grantaire.

With force Enjolras put the car back in gear and pulled into a u-turn. She had to go get Grantaire. She couldn’t leave her like that.

* * *

“What are you going to do to them?” mumbled Grantaire, watching the monster with her short curly hair, her brown skin, her crooked nose and scarred cheek. It had stolen her clothes, now that she was too weak from blood loss and crying and everything else that had happened. Taken her clothes, all except the small mercy of her underwear and the silver bullet necklace she wore, which it wouldn’t touch. ( _Silver_ , she had though futilely. _Of course silver. It’s always silver._ If only she had got her gun out fast enough, shot it before it had jumped on her with so many teeth and limbs and eyes, before it had changed, _before._ )

“Eat them,” said the thing with her face. “I can’t have hunters running around in my feeding grounds can I? Then I’ll come back and eat you. Or maybe first I’ll spare your blonde one, bring her back so you two can have a little reunion. That’ll be fun won’t it?” 

If Grantaire hadn’t already been sick, she would’ve been at that thought. She settled instead for a dry sob.

“Well,” said the thing, winking at her again. “It’s been fun. I’ll say hi to your friends for you.”

* * *

Grantaire wasn’t answering her phone.

Fuck. 

Enjolras leaned over and fumbled with the glovebox, pulling out the pistol she kept there just in case, stocked with silver bullets. She wasn’t a great shot, but she could manage. She was better with knives, even better than that with tracking. Grantaire was the gun person. That’s why they formed their team right? Everyone had different skills, she could track, Grantaire could shoot, Courfeyrac was good with spells, Combeferre was good for research and fuck, _how could she have left Grantaire alone?_ They were a team, Grantaire was...

She got out of the car and began heading to the path they had taken up the mountain. Grantaire had to be okay, she had to be. 

“Grantaire!” she called out as she followed the tread on brush from where she had, desperation tinging her voice. “Grantaire?” 

There was silence, and Enjolras had to bite back more panic. Focus on the path, focus on finding her-

There was a rustle in the brush, too big to be an animal and Enjolras whirled around fast, gun held in shaking hands, pointed at the direction of the noise. “Who’s there?”

Silence. Then, quiet: “Enjolras?”

Enjolras almost dropped her gun in relief. “Grantaire!”

Sure enough, out stumbled Grantaire, and shit. Her clothes were filthy and she was favoring her arm. Her rifle was missing, but she was gripping her Beretta tight in her hand. “Shit,” she breathed. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” 

She wanted to hug Grantaire she was so relieved, but held herself back from it. Grantaire gave a shaky smile.

“I’m as good as I can be. You came back.”

“Yeah I came back. I’m...” Her voice broke, but she cleared her throat, recovering quickly. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I shouldn’t have left you behind. God, what happened, did the werewolf-”

“It wasn’t a werewolf,” Grantaire interrupted, voice hard. “I didn’t see it clear... Jumped on my back, but I got away. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t a werewolf though. We definitely need to regroup, this- this shit is way above my pay grade.”

“Shit,” breathed Enjolras again. “Come on, can you- are you bleeding? Can you walk?”

“Walked this far didn’t I? Fuck. I’m glad you came back for me.” 

Enjolras bit her lip. “You should have called me.”

“Phone got lost.”

“Come on.” Enjolras held out her hand. “Let’s get back you back to the car.”

Instantly Grantaire took it. Her hand was cold, chilled by the night.

* * *

Enjolras had met Grantaire in a bar, and had approached her, head held high and confident, not intimidated by the noticeable burn scar on her cheek, or the three piercings in her eyebrow. She strode right up to the table where she sat, in the back of the bar, and cleared her throat. 

“You’re Grantaire?”

She looked over Enjolras behind mirrored sunglasses which she really didn’t need inside, then she laughed. “You’re my meet up? About the position?”

Enjolras frowned. “Yes.”

“ _You’re_ a hunter?”

“For two years now. I’m not as experienced, but I promise I am skilled. We all are.” 

“Shit. You don’t look like a hunter at all. What are you, 19?”

“I’m 21.”

“Shit. You’re a kid.”

“I read your file. You’re 23.”

“And I could be 35 compared to you.” Then Grantaire laughed again and grinned up at Enjolras. Her scarred skin stretched tight when she smiled. “Look, I’m teasing. Sit down. Tell me your name. Let me buy you a drink and we can talk about this _team position_ I’m being offered.”

Enjolras sat down, offering her hand. “My name is Enjolras, and I don’t drink.”

Grantaire looked at her hand hesitantly, before reaching out to take it. “Nice to meet you Enjolras.”

Her hands were warm. They were always warm.

* * *

 Grantaire was quiet on the drive back, face pressed against the car window. 

About half an hour in, she turned and asked “We almost there?”

Enjolras gripped the wheel a little tighter. “We’re still an hour out. You know that.”

“Right. Sorry. I think I hit my head.”

“We’ll have Joly look at it when we get back.”

Grantaire laughed a forlorn laugh. “I just want to get back to wash my hair.” 

Enjolras chuckled slightly, but her skin was crawling, and she didn’t know why. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and clenched her jaw. Then she swerved the car to the side of the road.

“Enjolras?” yelped Grantaire, her head almost slamming against the window. “What the hell?”

“I don’t feel right leaving the scene like that. We have to get more evidence.” 

“Oh come on, Enjolras!” whined Grantaire. “I just want to get back and take a bath.”

“I’m not saying we need to hunt it. I just want to look around for a better idea of what we’re up against. Tracks, whatever.” 

Grantaire groaned, loud, dramatic. “Whatever. Let’s just get it over with then.”

Enjolras nodded, stiff, concentrating hard on not letting her hands shake. Something was wrong. _Something was wrong._

Her unused gun was still resting at her hip, and she had a sliver blade strapped to her ankle. Just in case.

* * *

“How’s your shoulder doing?”

“It would be better if we were back by now.” 

Enjolras rolled her eyes before glancing back down at the compass she had illuminated with the a small LED light. “You’re sure it was this way?” This wasn’t right. There were no trails, no signs of life, nothing. This was _wrong._

“Yeah, I’m sure. East, right?” 

“Yeah,” mumbled Enjolras. “This is east.” She flicked the light off and blinked rapidly, letting her eyes adjust back to the moonlight. “No tracks. How big did you say this thing was?”

“Big. It didn’t walk on the ground though. It jumped from tree to tree, so it must be pretty light.”

“Trees? You didn’t think this was important to mention Grantaire?” 

“I was a little distracted by my injuries! Excuse me!” 

Enjolras rolled her eyes, nervously tugging on her hair, still in the tight braid from earlier. “Well, this changes things, so you could have mention it earlier. At least I know what I’m looking for now.”

She flicked the the light back on, shining a light on the nearest tree. “If it climbs in the trees, it must leave its tracks there. Claw marks, broken branches... If we could just get some evidence of this thing...” There was nothing in that tree, so she swung her light around, it briefly crossing over where Grantaire was standing, arms petulantly crossed, and-

Enjolras moved her light back, letting it rest on Grantaire, who made a noise and shielded her eyes. 

“Where’s your necklace?” Enjolras asked, sounding as casual as she could. The necklace, the silver one that Grantaire always wore, it was gone, not even a glimmer of the chain-

“Must of lost it when the thing attacked me. I don’t know.” Grantaire squinted into the light dimly. “Can you get that out of my eyes?”

“Right,” mumbled Enjolras, lowering it, before turning it on another tree near her, turning her back on Grantaire. “Can you look at the trees over there?”

“Oh no, don’t apologize,” she grumbled. “I will if I’m not blind.” 

Grantaire never took her necklace off. She never took it off. Once it had fallen off during a hunt, a lake monster down south, and Grantaire had thrown a fit, spent half a day diving for it in her underwear until she had stomped back into their motel, shivering and soaked to the bone, but holding her necklace. 

“Hey Grantaire,” she laughed, hoping it didn’t sound mechanical. “Remember when I gave you that necklace?”

It was a lie. Grantaire had been wearing it when she met Enjolras. She had never told Enjolras where she got it or why it was important to her. Enjolras inched closer to Grantaire, but didn’t turn to face her. 

“Of course I do. Guess you’ll have to get me a new one now.”

“Right.” Another inch closer. She fingered the gun she had strapped to her hip. “Well it is your birthday coming up.” Her birthday wasn’t for another 4 months.

Grantaire laughed, still inspecting a tree, running her fingers along it to test for claw marks. “Yeah, convenient for you.” Another inch closer. 

Enjolras put away her light, the moon once again the only light. “Well, doesn’t look like there’s anything here. We’ll have to keep moving. Oh, Grantaire?”

“Yeah?”

The next second she had pulled her gun out and was pressing the muzzle to the back of Grantaire’s head.

“Enjolras!” she yelped. “What the fuck-”

“Where the hell is Grantaire?” hissed Enjolras, pressing a little harder with the gun.

“What the hell! Have you gone crazy?”

“I don’t know what on earth you are.” Enjolras’ voice was getting louder involuntarily, tight and strained. “But you sure as hell aren’t Grantaire. Where the _hell_ is Grantaire?” 

There was a long silence, where no one moved. Then: “What gave it away?”

“Little things. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell that one of my friends had been replaced?”

“Ah, Enjolras,” purred the thing that wasn’t Grantaire. “Friend? Judging by the fight you two had, I don’t think you even like Grantaire.” Suddenly the thing took a step forward, just enough so it could spin around so it was now facing Enjolras, resting its hands loosely on the barrel of her gun. 

“What are you doing?” yelped Enjolras. “Don’t-”

“If you kill me you’ll never find her.” The thing chuckled, and Enjolras faltered. It was true. “Is it a sense of duty, then? Can you stand Grantaire? I don’t think you like her at all, considering the way you just left her to be at my mercy.” The thing continued, letting it’s fingers stroke the gun softly, dropping it’s voice to a stage whisper. “She certainly likes you though.”

She was shaking, Enjolras realized. This wasn’t Grantaire, but it looked like her, sounded like her. “Shut up,” she snapped, trying to seem calm.

The thing laughed, eyes glinting sinisterly in the moonlight. “It was kind of cute really. I mean she’s _awfully_ loyal to you. Wouldn’t let herself be tempted, not at all.” 

“If you touched her-”

“Oh no, that was out of the question wasn’t it?  Not with her thrashing about. But when I can look like you I don’t have to touch her, do I?” Its arm moved from the barrel of the gun so it was stroking Enjolras’ fingers now, smirk twisting Grantaire’s face unpleasantly. “No, I didn’t actually have to do anything to her to begging me to stop. I just have to make her watch. She acted like she didn’t, but I think she liked it, watching you play with yourself, _fuck yourself._ ”

Enjolras stomach lurched. “You- You-” 

The thing leaned forward, so the gun was pressed into Grantaire’s chest, and Enjolras felt her arms buckling so the thing could press its body close to her’s, voice low and preening. “You know, she started crying when you came. Isn’t that cute?”

Enjolras jerked back with a rush of disgust, lowering her gun and shoot it through the foot. The thing howled an inhuman cry and dropped to the ground, the wound smoking as it crumpled into a ball. “I’ll kill you!” shouted Enjolras, her head swimming, hands shaking, because it looked like Grantaire on the ground in front of her, it looked like Enjolras had hurt her. “How dare you hurt her, I’ll- I’ll-” 

The thing uncurled itself suddenly, and there was a blast from Grantaire’s gun, making Enjolras yell as a bullet whizzed past her face, only inches away, and thank god she wasn’t Grantaire, because from this distance Grantaire would have hit her.

“You’ll kill me?” shrieked the thing, and it didn’t sound much like Grantaire at all anymore as it rose to its feet, one dragging limply as it approached on Enjolras. “Human bitch! Don’t you understand you things are just prey to me? I am the superior life-form, I am-” 

Enjolras fired again, hitting the thing’s shoulder, then turned as it howled and began to run. Find Grantaire, she had to find Grantaire. Surely the monster had been leading her away from it’s nest, so that meant she had to double back around and- 

And it was chasing her, she could hear it, but that was not the noise of something human running, too fast, strides too long, and instinctively she turned her head as she ran, just long enough to see the _thing,_ arms and legs stretched and segmented, claws and teeth and eyes where they shouldn’t be, and _it still seemed to be wearing Grantaire’s skin_ , stretched tight across its bones, and- 

Fear rushing though her, Enjolras wildly fired two more shots behind her, both of them missing and hitting surrounding trees. The monster gave an angered, terrifying shriek, and lunged, flying at her and suddenly Enjolras was tumbling to the ground, gun flying out of her hand, hitting stone and dirt so hard it knocked the breath out of her, left her wheezing, the thing pinning her down with one arm. 

“I was going to just eat you,” snarled the thing, voice distorted as its bones in its face crunched and reformed, extra teeth and eyes being covered over by skin as it turned back into a perfect replica of Grantaire, Grantaire’s lips and eyes and scar. “But now I’m mad. I think I’ll kill you in front of her, then when she’s broken, keep her as a pet. What do you think of that, _Enjolras?_ ” It said her name with a sneer, leaning in so their faces were inches apart. “I think I’ll keep her down there forever, my little human pet. By the time I’m done with her she won’t even be able to tell the difference between you and me not when I-”

 _Down there,_ thought Enjolras desperately. _She’s underground._ Then she twisted and slammed her forehead into the thing’s nose. 

It didn’t do much, just knocked the thing back, but it was enough, enough for Enjolras to be able to reach down and grab the silver blade she had hidden in her boot and plunge it into the thing’s other shoulder. It howled, louder than before, and crumpled again. 

“You wanna know what I think?” gasped Enjolras, breathless but proud. It was weak to silver, it had to be since it hadn’t taken Grantaire’s necklace. And it already had two silver bullets in its body. It was weak. “I think you talk too much.” 

Enjolras stood, legs shaky, but she could stand. “Now, tell me where she is, or I kill you.”

The thing continued to writhe, and its limbs were shrinking, going back to human size. “If you kill me-”

“I’ll find her anyway. I’m stubborn like that, and I don’t think you’re as smart as you act. I’m just giving you an out.”

“Never-”

“How do those bullets feel?”

The thing stilled, gasping hard, and then it looked up her. “Enjolras,” it begged, and Enjolras’ blood ran cold. “Enjolras, please stop.”

_It was manipulating her it had gone back to looking like Grantaire so-so she wouldn’t-_

“Stop that,” she muttered. “It won’t work.” 

“Enjolras,” the thing continued, ignoring her. “Please, Enjolras, it’s me-”

“Stop that-” 

“Enjolras, please don’t-” The thing was reaching out for her, hand trembling, and Enjolras had to fight back the terrifying urge to take it. “It hurts, fuck-”

“Shut up!” Enjolras voice was getting desperate, and she closed her eyes, gripping her blade tighter than before. “Shut your mouth you-you fucking-”

“Enjolras,” whispered the thing. “I love-”

Enjolras screamed and stabbed it in the heart. 

The thing died with a cry that wasn’t entirely human, but also sort of was, and when Enjolras opened her eyes and saw Grantaire dead in front of her, she dropped the blade and started to scream. 

The hysterics lasted only a few minutes, but the shaking lasted longer, and Enjolras found herself pressed against a tree, breathing hard, tears leaking from her eyes. 

_Grantaire- Grantaire was-_

Grantaire was still out there. This wasn’t Grantaire. She had to remember that, had to focus on it.

She had to find Grantaire. She couldn’t let it win.

* * *

There was almost no wildlife on the mountain, and even had she not just killed a monster, Enjolras would have known that was a sign of the supernatural. An apex predator, an unnatural one, was sure to chase away the native inhabitants of a habitat. She had seen it time and time again, the eerie, quiet emptiness that resulted from a supernatural invader. 

And if the mountain in general was eerie, as Enjolras approached the monster’s den, it became hauntingly barren. Even the air felt dead, still and suffocating. Brush was flattened in large, dead paths. _Bodies,_ Enjolras acknowledged in the back of her head. _This is where it dragged the bodies. 5 bodies found 10 missing and probably the only reason it let the 5 be found was to taunt their families and-_

She had to focus. She had to focus on tracking. She was good at tracking, it made sense, it was a skill. It was not the fire of emotions in her belly, burning into her chest. She had to push that down. Ignore it. Focus on the trail. 

It was a clearing, mostly rock, where she found it, right next the side of the mountain where it started to get really steep. A large, heavy chain, half buried in the dirt, and when Enjolras pulled it, arms shaking from the strain, it pulled a metal door up, sort of like a tornado shelter, except bigger. 

The door led to concrete stairs, and Enjolras hadn’t gotten halfway down them before she was hit with the smell. 

Rotting flesh.

She covered her nose and continued down, pointedly ignoring the dark stains on the concrete, until she reached... 

God.

It was little more than a bunker, a concrete box with a generator whirring in the corner, powering the dim fluorescent lights, a metal table with things piled on it, but the smell, the blood-flesh-death smell made Enjolras dry-heave despite herself, and there were piles of sickly, rotting flesh, shapeless and blob-like, like it had been shed and beyond that- 

“Grantaire!” she shrieked, and her voice pitched high, and she wasn’t sure if it was from relief or terror. It was Grantaire, apparently unconscious, but alive, visibly breathing, but god. She was leaning against the far wall, injured, stripped, chained, surrounded by filth, but _alive._

“Grantaire!” she cried again, bounding over to her and crouching, pressing her shaking hands to the woman’s face. She didn’t know what else to say. “Grantaire... Grantaire...”

Grantaire stirred. Enjolras wanted to cheer. She settled for choking out “Grantaire...” one more time as the woman groaned, eyes blinking deliriously. Then she focused her gaze on Enjolras and screamed.

“Get away from me! Get away from me, don’t touch me-” And she was thrashing, kicking weakly, and Enjolras didn’t know what to do, she hadn’t expected-

“Grantaire!” she cried. “Grantaire it’s me!”

“Liar! Get away, get away, don’t-”

“Grantaire-”

“Please-! Stop- Stop-”

Enjolras was going to throw up. The words hit her like a bullet, please, stop, don’t, just like that thing before Enjolras had, had- 

“Grantaire, please!” Enjolras begged, and she hadn’t realized she was near tears, but here they were. “Please, I-I need to prove it! Grantaire, ask me something to prove it!” Grantaire stilled at that, and Enjolras took that opportunity to grasp her shoulder’s as gently as she could. “Please,” she gasped. “S-Something only I would know.”

Grantaire was still for a moment, and her eyes were so glassy it made Enjolras afraid she had passed out again, but then she spoke, her voice as timid as Enjolras had ever heard it. “Wh-who was your first kiss?” 

Enjolras sniffed, and almost smiled despite herself. “Jaime Delgado, when I was 15. It was a dare, and I kissed him too hard and hit my tooth. I hated it and was embarrassed said I was never going to kiss a boy again.” She swallowed hard, not looking at Grantaire. “I told you that the first time we were on a boring stakeout together. You asked for an embarrassing story. I told you that, but you never returned the favor.”

Silence. Then: “Yeah, well. I wanted you to think I was cool.” 

Enjolras pressed her face into Grantaire’s shoulder so she wouldn’t cry, and Grantaire was mumbling “You found me, you came for me, you came back, _Enjolras-_ ” above her, like a prayer. 

“Yeah,” Enjolras mumbled back, then she sat up and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “Yeah. Yeah. I came back. Now I need to get you out of here okay? I need to find the key. Just. Hang on.” Then, as an after thought, Enjolras stripped off her jacket and wrapped it around Grantaire, hoping it would provide her some kind of warmth, or maybe even comfort. Grantaire nodded weakly, and Enjolras found the key to it, resting on the metal table on the other side of the room, as quickly as she could. 

“There we go,” she muttered, with a softness uncharacteristic even to her own ears as she unlocked the chain and massaged Grantaire’s arms, before helping her to her feet, letting the woman lean heavy on her. “There we go. Let’s get you back now.”

“Won’t be fun with no shoes.”

Enjolras almost laughed. “Considering the night we’ve had, I think this will be fine.”

Grantaire hummed. “This was so not worth the money.”

Enjolras held her tighter. “No. It really wasn’t.”

* * *

   
Grantaire slept most of the ride back, wrapped in Enjolras’ jacket still, and the sun was just beginning to rise as they got back to the hideout, which was really just a motel they had rented some rooms out in, since this particular job had been too far away from their actual headquarters.

She dragged Grantaire up to Combeferre’s room as quickly as possible hoping no one would be awake to see, and let the him be the one to rush and wake up Joly.

“It wasn’t a werewolf,” she explained to Combeferre in hushed tones, one eye on Joly stitching up Grantaire. “Some kind of shapeshifter but... not what we’ve seen before.” She recounted as quickly as possible, carefully leaving out any mention of what it had said to her. 

“And you killed it?” Combeferre asked, hiding his horror well. If she hadn’t known him so long she wouldn’t have recognized it.

She nodded. “East side of the mountain. Someone should probably extract the body. I can write down approximate directions if you...”

“I’m sure we’ll be okay. You almost done Joly?”

Joly nodded, seeming already wired with energy for someone who had just been woken up. “Yeah. It’ll take her a bit to recover, but she’ll be okay. It uh. Well it could of been worse.” Then, to Grantaire. “No alcohol for a bit though. It’ll interfere with the medicine I’ll be getting you.”

Grantaire, eyes clearer now, dressed in one of Courfeyrac’s large t-shirts and a pair of Joly’s shorts, groaned. “Just as well. The thing took my flask.”

“We’ll look for the lair when we retrieve the body,” said Combeferre, standing from the bed he was sitting on. “Enjolras, should Joly check you too?”

Enjolras shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Grantaire, can I...?” 

She let her question trail off as she held her hand out to Grantaire. Grantaire hesitated, then took it. 

She helped Grantaire back to her room, and they both pretended they weren’t making eye contact. “Do you want to take a shower?” she asked as she helped Grantaire sit on her bed. 

“Later. And I definitely don’t want help doing that.” She shrugged, looking away, the light from the sunrise leaking in through her curtains casting heavy shadows on her face. “Right now I just want to sleep.”

Enjolras nodded, but didn’t move. “The... The thing told me. What it did to you.”

Grantaire met her gaze for the first time since she had woken up in the bunker, eyes wide and horrified. Then her whole face crumpled. “Oh god. Oh god no.”

“Grantaire, it’s okay-”

“No! No, it’s not even a little bit okay.” She turned suddenly, flinging herself on the bed so she wasn’t facing Enjolras. 

“Grantaire, you don’t need to-”

“If you are about to tell me how to feel Enjolras, please shut up.”

She fell silent, swallowing heavily. When she found words again all she could say was “It looked like you when I killed it. It. It _made me_ do it while looking like you. It looked like I had killed you, and after I did it I couldn’t stop screaming.”

Grantaire turned back around on the bed, silent. Then she cleared her throat and said “I... I thought that would be the last time I would see you, and it wasn’t even you. I thought the last thing I ever said to you would be ‘I don’t need you,’ and that my last memory of you would be... Would be that.”

Enjolras nodded, and there was silence again. “Can I stay with you?” she said finally.

Grantaire scooted over, making room for Enjolras on the bed. Her face was drawn in tight as Enjolras laid facing her, heavy shadows and her scar and hard eyes. Silently, she reached out with one hand, taking Enjolras braid with it. She let her undo the braid in silence, running her fingers through the long blonde hair.

“I should cut it,” she sad, quiet. 

“Please don’t.” Grantaire’s voice was thick, like she was trying not to cry. Then she smiled weakly. “I guess it’s not everyday we go up against the supernatural version of Hannibal Lector, huh?”

It really wasn’t funny, but Enjolras laughed anyway. Then she mumbled “I’m sorry for leaving you. And I’m sorry for saying those things to you. A-And I’m sorry I didn’t rescue you sooner and I’m sorry I let that thing-”

“Stop apologizing. It’s freaking me out. Look. I... I just want to sleep. Can we do that? Can we sleep?”

“Can I hold you?” Enjolras could say that. She couldn’t say what she really wanted to, couldn’t say that she wanted to touch her and make sure Grantaire really was still alive because when she closed her eyes she saw her dead at her hands, couldn’t say how scared she’s been of losing her, couldn’t say that more than anything she wanted to assure Grantaire that the monster hadn’t been really her in that bunker, that she she wasn’t mad at her and that she shouldn’t feel guilty. 

She couldn’t say any of that. 

But she could ask to hold her.

“I understand if you don’t want to,” she said quickly after saying it. “I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable so soon after-” 

“Shut up and hold me Enjolras.”

Enjolras did. 

(It was a cold comfort, holding each other on a stiff, motel bed, each trapped in their own internal worlds of pain, each suffering from the pain the monster had caused them privately, alone. There was too much Enjolras wasn’t saying for it to comfort her, and she was sure there was too much Grantaire wasn’t saying. 

It was cold comfort. But it was something. Maybe, in their business, it was the best they could get.)


End file.
